The Heat of Shower Water

My heart rate slows

In the heat of the shower water.

My stress washes away

In a flurry of scorching droplets.

I am alone in my world with

Red-splotched skin.

I look, there's dirt

Under my fingernails. But how?

I don't have a garden—

Something that I'd like to change.

I am clean after another day, 

Smelling of peach and almond.

Clear of thought-plaguing scenes

That have melted down the drain

With the stench of worry.

I am vulnerable to tomorrow.

My heart rate beams skyward.